Nighttime habits
by SymmetricallyImperfect
Summary: AU LateTeen!John and LateTeen!Sherlock, Rated M for drug use and M/M in future chapters. John Watson discovers Sherlock Holmes, a student at his university, selling himself on the streets. When John confronts him he learns more about Sherlock's troubled past, afterwards they develop a strong friendship but can it become something more?
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock stood in the back alley of a club, a lit cigarette in one hand. Every once in a while he'd bring the fag to his lip, take a long, deep drag and then send smoke out into the air like a dragon from a fairytale. The dark-haired teen was waiting, waiting for a dealer with good cocaine, waiting for a client who would offer enough for an hour, waiting for anything. The back door to the club swung open and filled the dark alley with bright light and music, Sherlock stood and waited to see who would come out.

A drunken John Watson stumbled out of the club, propped up by his best mate, Mike Stamford, who was surprisingly still somewhat sober. "Come on Mikeeey, I wasn't finished, I nearly pulled there, just let me go back in for five more minutes." John called out, tripping over his words. Sherlock rolled his eyes and took a drag from the cigarette, blowing smoke rings into the night, the drunk ones were always fun. Though Sherlock was the type to let his clients or dealer approach him, everyone in night time circle knew his name. Sherlock Holmes was just another creature of the night, an enigma to which none could solve.

John shook his head, trying to clear the low buzzing ringing in his ears, it took him a while but he finally made out the outline of a tall form before him. "Oi! Mate, don't I know you from somewhere?" John asked trying to remember what was so familiar about the dark figure before him. It took Sherlock a moment before he realized who the drunk was, he was John Hamish Watson, they went to university together. John was captain of the rugby team and was majoring in medical sciences. "I… no…" Sherlock managed to say. He was already harassed enough at the university, if word got out he was a whoring junkie he'd never hear the end of it.

John narrowed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the voice, "No, I'm sure I do, yeah, you're that…" Mike interrupted him, pulling John away, by his jacket. "Come on John, leave the man alone. I'm sure he has enough problems, given his job and all." John looked at Mike quizzically, to which Mike just mouthed 'prostitute' and proceeded to pull John away, stumbling slightly.

John turned around a final time, facing Sherlock he leaned in to say "See you around…" he dropped his voice to a whisper "Sherlock Holmes".

"See ya…" Sherlock choked out, his stomach knotting up as he saw his whole life go up in flames. John and Mike were two of the biggest gossipers around and if John knew Sherlock would bet anything that Mike Stamford would be the first person he told. By tomorrow morning the whole of campus would know what he did at night, it wouldn't be a secret anymore. The girls would mock him and the guys would beat him up, though some of them might approach him for a quick, no strings attached fuck, the thought sickened Sherlock.

John stumbled along up the road, he glanced back, giving Sherlock one last pitying look, he had known the boy had issues but he'd never thought for one second that he'd turn to prostitution. He was about to go and apologize but then Mike spotted the girl he was hitting on early leaving the club and all thoughts of Sherlock Holmes left his head.

Sherlock dropped his cigarette, watching John go, and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot. Just then another man approached him, offering both cocaine and money and all Sherlock could do was agree. As the man roughly grabbed him by the waist, pulling him further into the dark alley, Sherlock turned his head back to John. If, no when, this got out his life wouldn't be worth living, not that it already was but still.

* * *

John walked into class, his backpack sling over his shoulder. He sat down in his seat, turning around to talk to Mike, all thoughts of the night before were lodged at the back of his mind, all thoughts of Sherlock were virtually forgotten, lost in a jumble of exam worries, rugby matches and pretty girls.

Sherlock was the last to show up to class, sitting as far back in the lecture hall as he could, far away from the other students. Every morning Sherlock waned to forget the previous night, but now he wanted to more than ever, to erase all memory of John, of how he discovered his dirty little secret, from his mind. But he couldn't, for once in his life Sherlock cursed his ability, his never-forgetting memory and his sharp mind.

After just 15 minutes of class, John's attention had left the professor and instead fell upon the hushed chatter of a group of girls in front of him. It took John a while, what with his still hungover mind, but he recognized one of the voices, it belonged to the girl he nearly pulled last night, the one Mike had dragged him away. He shook his head in an attempt to sharpen the blurred memory. There was something else, or rather some_one_ else, nagging on his mind. Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, the boy he'd caught selling himself on the streets, the boy who usually sat almost directly behind him and who John could've sworn watched him daily out the corner of his eye. John turned around, hoping to catch Sherlock's attention, however he noticed the younger man had sat himself as far away and to the right of the room as could be possible.

John frowned, Sherlock wasn't avoiding him deliberately was he? Sherlock was known around campus for not caring what people thought about him and for well, being arrogant. But today Sherlock just looked terrified, maybe last night _had _really got to him.

Never in his life had Sherlock prayed, but right now that was all he was doing, it seemed the minutes were barely ticking, as if time itself had stopped, and Sherlock willed the lecture to be over. He'd felt John's gaze the moment the older boy clamped eyes on him and Sherlock could feel himself tensing up. Finally, after what Sherlock would swear had been years, a bell rung out through the lecture hall, signalling the end of class. Sherlock bolted, shoving his books and pens in his bag and making a dash for the door. He didn't care how stupid or manic he looks as he rushed away; he just needed to be clear of John Watson, the less contact he had with the man the more he would forget about Sherlock and his night-time habits.

It was hard not to notice John Watson, handsome, charming and captain of the rugby team, so it was eminent that he left Sherlock alone, a few words here and there about his little night-time job and Sherlock's life would be over. How would he be able to stay at a school where everyone knew what he did, how he got his money, or rather how he got he got his money that he then spent almost all of on cocaine. The rest went on what little food he would actually eat, usually a tin of soup or just some toast, Sherlock rather felt that the consumption of food was pointless and had no effect other than to slow down his mind.

Sherlock hear John calling after him, jogging to try and keep up with him, but it was no use, Sherlock had reached his next class, running hastily inside, by the time John had caught up with him. With a sigh John walked off to his own class, he'd have to catch Sherlock later.

As he grabbed a seat Sherlock shut his eyes, trying to focus, why couldn't John Watson leave him alone, did he have to torment Sherlock? He knew he would have to face John soon but he promised himself it wouldn't be today.

* * *

John was puzzled; Sherlock had all but sprinted away from him, but why? John got that even the emotionless Sherlock Holmes would be prone to embarrassment one time or another, but to run away? That didn't seem the younger man's style. Surely Sherlock wasn't intimidated by John, he knew he was popular, you weren't captain of the rugby team without earning some respect among fellow students, but John regarded himself as a decent guy, so he chatted a few girls up and got drunk every now and then, he wasn't like the other populars, who went around fucking anyone and getting smashed whenever they could. John sighed again, running his hand through his hair, he really should be paying attention, and he'd already missed one lecture by worrying about the younger man. With a glance towards the clock John resolved that he would leave Sherlock before the next two classes but that he would try to talk to him in the last class of the day, sociology, one of the few lessons John actually enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2

It was 2:40pm, just 10 minutes to go before John's next lesson, the lesson when he'd finally get his chance to talk to Sherlock, John decide that it'd be better just to get the conversation over and done with. A few words about John not blabbing about Sherlock and then he'd be able to put all this awkwardness, along the guilty feeling of how he left Sherlock without offering him a lift back, behind him, maybe be even be able to go out and have some fun tonight.

-Briiiing-

The bell rung out and John hastily packed up his thing, chucking his pens and scrunched-up notes quickly into his bag, he wanted to catch Sherlock early in order to avoid further embarrassment and he knew Sherlock was always on time to lessons; seeing as he had no girlfriend, or boyfriend for that matter, to walk to classes and no friends to waste time chatting too. If he was being honest, John felt sorry for they guy, sure he was smart, it was rumored he had an I.Q of 190, but was that all that mattered? In the entire time of John being at Bartholomew University, just over two years next month, he had never seen the boy in any kind of company, with a sigh John resolved to make more of an effort to befriend Sherlock, maybe even invite him out with him and Mike ever now and then.

* * *

Sherlock was rarely seen outside of Bart's University, unless you count the myriad of nightclubs he inhabited nightly, but Sherlock tended not to include those. The only other place Sherlock was likely to be spotted was Mrs Hudson's Café, a small, cosy building where he spent most of his lunchtimes. Sherlock found the café exceptional useful in times where he was keen to avoid a lesson, he would sit himself sitting in his usual window seat and often occupied with a book. And today was no different from just that. Sherlock had decided that the only way to get rid of John was to blank him completely, unfortunately for Sherlock, this meant he'd have to skip Sociology, one the few classes he didn't detest.

Checking his watch, Sherlock noted that class had been on for 20 minutes, "Oh well" he muttered to himself, draining the last of his coffee "Just an hour and ten minutes to kill now". As if on cue, the owner of the café Mrs Hudson, if you hadn't already guessed, popped out from the kitchen and asked Sherlock if he'd 'Be a dear and watch the till while she nipped out to get her herbal soothers as the chemist closes in 5 minutes'. Seeing as Sherlock had grown quite attached to Mrs Hudson he obliged happily and moved over to the till, folding the page over on his book.

"Oh and Sherlock," Mrs Hudson called out, "help yourself to and tea or coffee, black two sugars right?"

"Will do Mrs Hudson" Sherlock replied with a grin.

* * *

Back at the university, John was more than a little annoyed, it seem that Sherlock had now taking to bunking classes just to avoid him. This was getting ridiculous now, as soon as class was over John was going to go straight to Sherlock's dorm and sort this out. Luckily for John he only had 10 minutes to go, he decided to pack up now so that he could leave immediately.

It took John till he was half way to reaching Sherlock's dorm room that he realized that he didn't actually know what was the number of Sherlock's dorm room. Shit, he hadn't thought of that, John stopped in the middle of the corridor, wondering what to do. It wasn't like he could just ask one of Sherlock's friends, mainly because he didn't have any, but that didn't matter right now. Oh but wait, he could always ask one their head of house, a polite and shy girl by the name of Molly Hopper. She was basically head girl but for the whole of Bart's Uni, she was bound to know where Sherlock's dorm was. Pleased with his plan, John half walked, half jogged down to Molly Hooper's room, she had a private section due to her place at the university. After getting Sherlock's dorm number, surprisingly Molly seemed a bit reluctant to give it away, John headed down another corridor, 218, 219, 220 and ah Room 221 here he was. John let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding and knocked on Sherlock's door, it opened suddenly and John came face to face with a scowling Sherlock.

"Erm, Hi… Er could I come in?" John asked nervously, currently aware if the intensity of Sherlock's gaze.

"No" Sherlock replied bluntly, "I think it's just best if we forget the whole situation, don't you?"

"I was thinking maybe we could talk? I just wanted to apologize face to face you know" John answered back, fiddling with the zip on his bag.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, he'd easily deduced John was telling the truth from the moment he knocked on the door; the timid knocks; the way John was playing with his bag and how he kept looking at Sherlock with a look of pity clearly showed that the older teen was genuinely nervous. Maybe he should let him in? It wasn't like John could humiliate him if it was just the two of them.

Cautiously Sherlock opened the door, giving John one last glance in order to deduce any ulterior motives, allowing the older teen to step into his dorm room.

* * *

John stepped over the threshold, entering the room. It took John by surprise. He was fully expecting a small, almost militarily clean room with no personal items whatsoever. Instead John found himself standing in what he assumed could be the largest room in the university, the room was as messy as John, maybe messier and that was saying something. As for personal items, John was only half right; there were no photos or anything like that; however Sherlock did have an array of musical compositions littering the floors. Not to mention the furniture; which should be too expensive by any student's standards.

"What did you do, win the lottery?" John joked, turning to face Sherlock, who had shut the door and had returned back to sitting on his bed.

"What?" Sherlock snapped back.

"I er... Just meant you have quite expensive furniture considering you're a student.

Now it was Sherlock's time to blush. Acting as though he hadn't heard John Sherlock stood up, re-opened the door and cleared his throat. "Look I accept your apology, so please can you leave now."

John rolled his eyes and stood up to meet Sherlock at eye level. "For the love of God Sherlock, I'm trying to help you. I'm not trying to humiliate you or screw you over or whatever idea you've created in head."

Scoffing in reply Sherlock mock laughed, "Oh okay, so you're just trying to be nice yeah? Help out the local screw up, makes you feel better about yourself does it?" Before John could answer; Sherlock spoke again, his voice getting higher. "Sorry I forgot being the captain of the rugby team and one of the most popular students here must make you the most honesty guy around. I'm sorry I doubted you." He spat out.

Momentarily stunned at Sherlock's outburst it took John a while to react, finally coming to he burst out laughing and sat back down on Sherlock's bed. Ignoring the confused and frankly startled expression from Sherlock he took a deep breath to control himself. "Number one, I'm hardly popular, I just know a lot of people, Number Two I may not be the most honesty guy but I _am _genuinely trying to help." John took a step towards Sherlock and held out his hand, "Truce?"

Sherlock slowly reached out his hand to join John's and shook the older boy's hand, blushing slightly at his recent outburst. John smiled sweetly and pulled Sherlock into a tight hug, wrapping his arms strongly around him. When John finally pulled away he had to stifle a laugh at Sherlock's expression.

"It's okay Sherlock I don't bite, well not usually" John said with a wink, "So it's getting late but maybe we could grab some lunch tomorrow? You can tell me all about how you can afford all this stuff okay."

"Sure" Sherlock replied in a quieter voice, "Sounds good."

Sensing Sherlock was uncomfortable John excused him and said left with a wave, still smiling brightly.

As Sherlock shut the door he sank to the floor, why now, why him. John was barely even his friend and now Sherlock felt like he had betrayed him already. Great, he cursed his lack of control over his body; he had to get hard over John Watson didn't he.

As soon as John reached his dorm room he flopped onto his bed and cringed, he prayed Sherlock hadn't seen through his 'cool-guy' act. John looked down and groaned; he just had to get hard over Sherlock Holmes didn't he.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Warning- Chapter contains slash.

Sherlock turned the bathroom light off and got into bed, he'd spent the whole of that days classes thinking about John. When his Sociology lesson came around again Sherlock seriously considered ditching it again, but he knew this would just make his attraction to John more obvious. However the lesson didn't turn out too bad, John had come up to Sherlock and asked him if he wanted to go to Angelo's for lunch sometime tomorrow. This surprised Sherlock, he'd fully assumed John was just being polite when he mentioned lunch the previous day and had thought John would just go back to ignoring him. Maybe John was genuinely being nice. With that final thought Sherlock turned off the lights and decided he'd just have to take the day as it came.

_*Knock Knock*_

_Sherlock got up with a grunt, wondering who the hell would be at his door at 3am on a Saturday morning. Most likely it was a member of the football team who'd gotten bored and fancied playing a prank on the 'freak'. Either that or some student had gone out and got smashed, forgetting where his dorm room was and ending up wandering about the corridors._

_*Knock!Knock!Knock!*_

_There it was again, only this time it sounded like the knocker was becoming impatient. "Alright. Alright." Sherlock yelled, "I'm coming, just give me a second." He swung the door open, a scowl fixed on his face, just about ready to tell who ever was at his door to 'Fuck Off'. _

"_About time Sherl" John Watson drawled, propping himself up against the door frame and flashing Sherlock a mega-watt smile. Sherlock pulled John inside by his shirt, pushing him into the room, "What the hell do you think you're doing? It's three am, John. Three. A. M." John merely shrugged, taking interest in a section of Sherlock's wallpaper which had begun to peal._

"_Seriously, why are you here? Sherlock sighed, walking over to stand next to him. John stepped closer to Sherlock and started slowly undoing the buttons on Sherlock's shirt, "You've got beautiful eyes, you know that?" he added absentmindedly. _

_Sherlock blushed and looked away; only to have John lean in and start nibbling at the base of Sherlock's neck. With a yelp Sherlock pulled away and glared at John, "What do think you're doing?" _

_John raised his finger to Sherlock's lips and continued unbuttoning the deep purple shirt, slowly trailing kisses down his torso "Don't deny it, I know you want me too." John stopped, looking up at Sherlock to find the younger one biting his bottom lip and nodding for John to continue. _

_Sherlock's breath hitched at John removed his boxers, the cold air hitting his already half-hard cock. Getting on his knees fully, John licked the tip of Sherlock's erection teasing out the pre-cum. Sherlock moaned loudly, not caring about the student next door and threaded his fingers through John's sandy hair. John took his erection whole, bringing his hands up to grip onto Sherlock's hips._

_It had been a long time since Sherlock had been on the receiving end of a blow job, one particular night when he had been feeling lonely he decided to enter a well-known gay bar and had gone home with an man in his late twenties, whose name he hadn't even bothered to learn. He guessed that was why he felt his erection building up already, "Close" he muttered to John._

_Hearing Sherlock's admission John started to cup his balls, fondling them slowly. Sherlock threw his head back, gripping tighter onto John's hair. He wouldn't last much longer. As John drew out another load moan form Sherlock and felt the younger man grip his hair tighter. With a final shudder as John squeezed lightly on his balls Sherlock emptied himself down John's throat, calling out the teen's name._

Sherlock awoke with a start, his body sweating all over. John. It was just a dream. He looked down groaning, great. He was hard over John _again_. With a sigh he got up, dragging his bed covers behind him and headed for a cold shower.


End file.
